Erik's Epik
by angelinhell
Summary: The TRUE story of the Phantom of the Opera (sort of- you see, he refuses to tell me what actually happened). Fourth chapter is up, my friends! RR, please?
1. Birth

Erik's Epic  
by  
angelinhell  
  
angelinhell: Hey, peoples! This is the very beginning of a very long  
(epic, you might say) story of the POTO. (The phans should know who I  
mean).  
  
Erik: And you might want to read up on me. The rest of the junk, all  
lies, of course. Just like this stuff.  
  
angelinhell: *pouts* He won't tell me what really happened. It's  
really pissing me off!  
  
Erik: Shut up. I told you, I'm not-  
  
angelinhell: 195 years old, I know, you told me. You won't tell me  
ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Erik: *sighs* Next chapter should feature the film studio with  
absolutely nothing in it, because very little of the 'epic' has been  
written yet.  
  
angelinhell: I resent that! I've written 15 pages!  
  
Erik: *skeptically* Typed?  
  
angelinhell: *blushes*  
  
Erik: That's what I thought. She doesn't own me, people. I own myself!  
  
Plagiarism Cop: That's a lie and plagiarism besides. I'm afraid we'll  
have to arrest you.  
  
Erik: Wha-!  
  
angelinhell: Hey, you can't arrest my main character! Come back, you  
idiots! *runs after them*  
  
evilemmylou: *pops up randomly* Oh, and by the way, my friend didn't  
get a chance to tell you this (she's chasing after Erik- exactly what  
I predicted)-  
  
angelinhell: Hey! *pouts*  
  
evilemmylou: Anyway, enjoy the show!  
  
Movie Screen: Hey, that's my line!  
  
angelinhell and evilemmylou: *stare at Movie Screen in disbelief*  
  
Movie Screen: Well, it is! *pouts*  
  
* * * * * *  
  
"What's the point? What's the point of telling you what you already know?"  
  
The man simply stared into the light, not blinking, not speaking.  
  
"Answer me! Why should I tell you your own story?"  
  
"Because I want to know it from your point of view, and from theirs."  
  
God sighed. "I can't do that. That would be an invasion of privacy."  
  
The man shrugged. "This is supposed to be Heaven. Paradise. Isn't that right? If so, then I have a right to know." He frowned. "If not, then I want my money back."  
  
Laughter echoed through the chamber. "This is their heaven, too. What if they don't want you to know?"  
  
The man shrugged again. "They're dead. They don't care."  
  
God laughed again. "So are you, and you obviously and obnoxiously care."  
  
"I simply want to know."  
  
"Oh, Erik, I don't know..."  
  
His voice softened. "I loved them," he whispered. "I simply want to know if they loved me back."  
  
"Of course they did."  
  
"They said they did. I want to hear it from the one place where they can't lie to me- from their own thoughts."  
  
"They wouldn't..." God sighed. "All right, then. Follow me." The light became a beam and shot off down one of the many hallways.  
  
Erik sighed grimly. "Could you please choose a more material form? One that's easier to follow?"  
  
"Of course," and suddenly Vivian stood near him.  
  
"Vivian? You're..."  
  
"God? I am." Vivian shifted and became Nicole. "And so am I." Shift, this time to Katia's father. "I am, also."  
  
And then Erik stood before himself. "And we are God," the other one said before becoming a beam of light again. "Every person on Earth is, was, or will be God, Erik. God is only as good as the sum of its parts."  
  
Erik nodded. "Take whatever form pleases you, then."  
  
The light shaped itself into a bird. "Now, follow me."  
  
They wound down one hallway until they came to a door that looked just like any other.  
  
"Open it," God said.  
  
He did.  
  
Rows upon rows upon rows of objects, categorized by material, color, size, and shape filled the room. He was surprised to discover, as they walked through it, that each object was different in some way, but not a noticeable way. A human, looking at two similar objects, would not be able to tell them apart, but in a subtle way each one was unique. That black marble cube shone more brilliantly than its neighbors; that ruby sphere lacked any sort of luster whatsoever.  
  
They finally came to crystal, black section star aisle, six-inch-thick row. Erik's crystal was decidedly deeper than its neighbors, and yet it seemed to glow with a hidden, sunken fire. And when God shone upon it, the crystal let out a melancholy chord.  
  
"That is you from birth to death. From the day you were born- January 15, 1831- to the day you died- May 13, 2026- aged 195 years. That little black star is your entire life, as I knew it, as they knew it, and as they knew you. Any who knew you for any length of time longer than a year have pieces of their lives contained there. And you may see yourself through their eyes."  
  
Erik nodded, fearlessly reaching out to touch the crystal.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
The mother lay silent in the bed, waiting for the children to be given to her. "Come now, Jeanne, let me have my children."  
  
The girl shook her head. "No, Madame, I'm afraid I can't do that. You should not be subject to shock."  
  
"What's wrong with me looking at my children? Give them to me, Jeanne." The woman's voice had acquired a note of urgency and fear. "Please."  
  
Jeanne looked as though she were about to give in. "I shouldn't..."  
  
The woman laughed. "Jeanne, just let me see the little monsters."  
  
That decided her. Jeanne tore out of the room like lightning, the two bundles of linen that were supposed to be babies clutched to her chest.  
  
The woman shrieked and tried to climb out of the bed, weak though she was. She staggered out into the second-floor hallway just in time to see Jeanne trip over the carpet at the top of the stairs. Down the screaming girl went, the two children in her arms.  
  
The woman stumbled down the stairs. Jeanne's neck was broken, and her young face still held her shocked expression. One child's face, the girl's, was clearly visible, a pretty face. Her eyes closed in gentle sleep, she was a beautiful girl who would grow up to be a beautiful woman one day.  
  
She wondered why Jeanne had run- until she overcame her revulsion of the dead body and unfolded the cloth that held her son.  
  
She screamed. The thing had no nose, its blue, misshapen lips barely parted to draw breath.  
  
Both children were awakened by her scream, and both pairs of eyes snapped open. Her children's identical pairs of black-and-white eyes stared up at her with un-childlike comprehension.  
  
She tore into the soft babyish flesh of her son's face, screaming, "the devil's mark! The devil's mark! The devil's child!"  
  
There was blood on her hands, and the priest was pulling her away, and she was still shouting, "The devil's child! The devil in my house! I'll not touch it! I'll not touch the devil's child!"  
  
And her son opened his mouth for the first time and cried. His sobbing seemed so musical, so melancholy, so mature... And Father Depruis was calling loudly, "Charlotte! Charlotte!" and she was falling, falling with the light and dark flashing like blinking eyes, and that bittersweet, musical, terrible and intoxicating crying would not stop, would not stop... The devil, the devil's child, the devil's child, she'd not have the devil's child in her house, she'd not ouch it, and her daughter screamed for comfort, seemingly in harmony with the boy, and there were bloody tears on her face, and there was blood on the carpet, and the smell of death was all around her...  
  
She fainted.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
angelinhell: So, didja like it?  
  
Erik: How could they like a lie?  
  
angelinhell: Says Monsieur Opera Writer, Master of Melodramatic  
Illusions!!!!!!  
  
Erik: Shut up and get me out of here!  
  
angelinhell: Fine. Stand back! *pulls out chainsaw and turns it on*  
  
Erik: *sighs* I was think something a little quieter.  
  
angelinhell: *in adjoining cell with Erik* You can't arrest me! I  
wrote you!!!!!!!!!!!! *thinks* And Erik's my main character!!!!!!!!!!!  
*thinks* I know Cathy Rigby!!!!!  
  
Plagiarism Cop: Really? *lets them out* So sorry about that.  
  
angelinhell: *sighs* Idiot fans.  
  
Erik: *laughs*  
  
angelinhell: What are you laughing at?  
  
Erik: You just called yourself an idiot.  
  
angelinhell: Wha- oh.  
  
Erik: *laughs again*  
  
angelinhell: Gr. 


	2. The Chandelier: Part 1

Chapter Two  
  
It's a rainy day in Em's writing studio in upstate New York. (Yes, I know there aren't any film studios in upstate New York, but this one is insubstantial, so it doesn't matter.) Anyway, back to the story...  
  
angelinhell: *at mixer* Whoa, this is fun.  
  
Erik: What the hell are you doing?  
  
angelinhell: I'm mixing us as voices! Woohoo!!!  
  
Erik: That idiot.  
  
angelinhell: Hey! *throws headphones at him*  
  
Erik: *dodges headphones* Is that thing the only thing in here?  
  
angelinhell: Nope, look up.  
  
Erik: *does so* Wow, cool chandelier. What's it for?  
  
Gabrielle: *coming through door* I get to-  
  
angelinhell: Don't give it away! Do your stupid little telepathic thing!  
  
Gabrielle: *rolls eyes* -drop it on someone's head.  
  
Erik: Why don't I get to do that?  
  
angelinhell: *to Gabrielle* Gr. *to Erik* You do, but you drop a much larger chandelier on a lot more people to chastise your manager friends.  
  
Erik: Oh.  
  
angelinhell: And now comes the big one, what you've all been waiting for- drum roll, please.  
  
Erik and Gabrielle: *stare at her*  
  
angelinhell: *pouts* Do I have to do everything myself? *turns on speakers*  
  
*Drum Roll*  
  
angelinhell: And- I don't own POTO, but you knew that already. However, I do own Charlotte, Father Depruis, Marie-Paulette, and Gabrielle. *looks at Gabrielle* Well, most of Gabrielle.  
  
Gabrielle: *indignantly* Excuse me?  
  
angelinhell: *laughs and jumps out window with hang glider* This one's really long, just warning you. Don't be too harsh on me, pleas-  
  
Erik: Watch out for the-  
  
*BANG*  
  
*CRUMPLE*  
  
*SPLAT*  
  
Erik: -side of the building. *sighs*  
  
angelinhell: Mmmf mmffmmff! (I'm okay!)  
  
Gabrielle: What do you say we leave her there?  
  
Erik: After you, Mademoiselle.  
  
*They leave.*  
  
angelinhell: Mmfmff! (Enjoy!)  
  
* * * * * *  
  
I, Marie-Paulette Lointier, have worked in Madame Reinchart's house for twelve years- eight months longer than the existence of my beloved Monsieur Erik and his lovely sister Mademoiselle Gabrielle, my children more than they ever were Madame Reinchart's. On the day the poor children were born, Father Depruis gave them to me to care for, as their mother would not touch them  
  
"What are their names?" I had asked brightly to cover my revulsion, sure to be looked down upon by the priest.  
  
"Name them yourself," he said, obviously exasperated by the whole situation.  
  
I nodded and dug through my extensive collection of bad novels to find a book with two main characters, one girl and one boy. Pulling one out of the bookshelf at random, I looked at it. 'L'Amour Du Démon,' by Phillippe Perrinet, one of my favorite authors. It was about a girl named Gabrielle, who was kidnapped by a demon named Erik. Eventually they fall in love, and Gabrielle dies, condemning Erik to eternal and immortal existence alone. A truly transparent plot, the writing as dull as dull can be, but there the names were.  
  
C'est la vie.  
  
Long after both they and I had gotten used to the names I thought that they were not the luckiest names in the universe, but even then I thought nothing of it, merely thinking it appropriate that Erik got a demon's name, as his own mother had thought him devil's spawn.  
  
And so they were no more than characters in a book to me, that day. No more, no less. Gabrielle was beautiful because she was; Erik was beautiful because he was unreal.  
  
They could speak at a very young age. Once I caught Erik teaching Gabrielle to speak by saying the words and then looking at her. She repeated and never forgot them. It unnerved me If such talk were true (and I believed avidly in psychic powers then) then Erik and Gabrielle might be strong telepaths Two living prodigies, mysterious and entrancing, lived within this house, under my care.  
  
Their mother never knew. How could she? The only words she ever spoke to me besides those of reprimand were contained within a command to make Erik a mask, to hide the scars she had made and could not bear to see. Having no choice but to comply, I tried to explain it to the child.  
  
Poor thing! He did not understand what I was asking him to do. He did not understand why his mother (or at least the person I said was his mother- I don't think he believed me, then or ever) could not look at him at all, let alone with joy, as I did. I treated him as a toy, as friend, as son- she treated him as a disease. He did not understand why I, Marie, the woman he saw as his mother, was asking him to wear a cloth over his face, the face that he had never seen- I was too afraid of his reaction to show him a mirror.  
  
Silently I appealed to Gabrielle, and she nodded. "Erik, Mother Charlotte wants you to wear the mask so that she will not have to see the scars she made." This seemed so blunt that I flinched, but he seemed to understand- sort of.  
  
"But why?" he asked, still not satisfied.  
  
She used the simple answer I could not: "Because Marie says so."  
  
He accepted this, donned the mask, and never said another word about it.  
  
But it was not only speaking that he mastered quickly. Reading took him literally a week to learn, writing two, and drawing a single month. He devoured my novels like a rat in a grain bin; when he realized that the piano in the dining room made noise, he dragged me to it and implored me to play something.  
  
Music took him a mere three days to learn how to read; he was composing long before then. At age four he had perfect pitch; he could make the keys sing as no other could.  
  
And I, Marie-Paulette Lointier, had to watch this massive accumulation of knowledge, this unmistakable and astounding intelligence, by and in the one child who would never be able to use it. This child would never be able to leave the house- indeed, he was not allowed to now. How would he ever be able to do anything meaningful with his life?  
  
He was five when he discovered that the doors were locked, when he found out that he and Gabrielle could not leave the house at will.  
  
"Please, Marie, just let me go outside, only for five minutes. Please?"  
  
It hurt me somewhere deep inside that I had to refuse him, but orders are orders, and I knew his little heart would break without me, his surrogate mother. I could do nothing.  
  
He pleaded with me, the soundless tears running down his face and soaking into the leather of the mask, but what could I do? I could not help him. I cupped his little hand in mine and repeated the rejection I had been ordered to give him.  
  
But he tore away from me, running down the hallway to the latticed window at the end of it, climbing to it by way of the small dresser under it (it sat higher than my head in the wall) and pounded on the window, beat his hands against the glass and iron until the glass cracked and his hands bled, screaming that silent, wordless, telepathic scream no one could hear.  
  
No one but me.  
  
I had run to the end of the hallway when I realized what he was doing. and stood underneath the window pleading for him to come down (the dresser would not support my matronly, 70 kilo weight). Gabrielle heard the telepathic scream, came out of her room, and added her own underlying current of love, forgiveness, reassuring, and calmness to our verbal cajoling.  
  
When he finally came down, he wouldn't let me touch him, wouldn't let me bandage his cuts, and I got the feeling that if he could have, he would have prevented my looking at him. He would only let Gabrielle touch him, help him, heal him. It seemed he was telling me that only Gabrielle was allowed to love him, since I had betrayed him to this imprisonment. It made me feel horrible, and several times during his recuperation I caught myself scolding him for little things, and came back to myself only when he turned those cool, frightening, mismatched eyes on me and gave me the most aggravating glare that I have ever received in my life, all the more annoying because it was well-founded. He had a reason for looking at me like that, I knew it, and I knew he was justified in his annoyance at me.  
  
But he recovered from his temporary 'hatred' of me. I think it was Gabrielle who finally convinced him that I loved him. Gabrielle who told him I was a valuable ally, and that I was his friend. Gabrielle, the girl who stood silent, merely an observer, unless Erik was involved. Only Gabrielle could calm him in his rages, stop his tears, comfort him and protect him from his nightmares. She fought for him; she bled for him; sometimes I think she would have died for him. Never had I seen greater or even equal love in a child before her.  
  
And in return for her utter devotion, Erik gave her some power over him. She could calm him and comfort him when no one else could; she bore blows meant for him and got his love in return.  
  
Eventually I have come to the conclusion that Gabrielle was the stronger telepath. She taught him how to broadcast his thoughts, to project them, to make them audible to the natural human ear, to make them into vibrations that could be heard commonly. She could do so much with her mind that he could not, so much that had never occurred to me, not even in my wildest dreams of power.  
  
Erik made evident and amazing progress in material things like reading and music and drawing. While Gabrielle was equally adept at these, she never seemed to care about them the way he did. She was obviously much more concentrated on her evident mental powers.  
  
They both amazed me every day with what they could do. Once I caught Erik at the piano playing the saddest music I had ever heard, music that filled my soul with ache and my eyes with tears. Gabrielle was singing, with her back to me:  
  
"And so the doors are locked  
  
And the windows barred  
  
With blood the stones are sealed  
  
And the stars shine down on tears  
  
But he is here to love me  
  
His eyes so brightly starred  
  
Within him is my comfort  
  
And with him all my years."  
  
She waited as he played an absolutely exquisite interlude, and as she started singing again, she saw me. She turned around, smiling still, and I saw that her mouth was closed! The words poured from her mind but not her mouth, and I backed away, turned to the door, and ran, ran from the specter of that horrifying, beautiful, mouthless singing:  
  
"...the stars shine down on tears..."  
  
I heard him reprimand her that night. He said that it wasn't right to frighten me like that. I was their mother, I loved them. How could she be so ungrateful?  
  
It was then that I knew he loved me.  
  
But what I saw next startled me. Gabrielle burst into tears and ran, sobbing, into his arms. It really shocked me: in truth, I had never seen such a display of emotion from Gabrielle. She seemed to be made of marble, but when he spoke to her, her eyes softened, her beautiful but cold features becoming less pale, her stance less defensive and more... adoring. I don't know how else to explain. I don't think Gabrielle ever loved a single being, human or not, more than she loved her brother. She did not believe in God- only in Erik.  
  
Her creed, I am sure, was "Erik's will be done."  
  
And while I was shocked by her lack of faith, it also fascinated me. And so I told no one.  
  
No one, that is, except the confessional priest, for which I will never, ever, forgive myself.  
  
The day Father Depruis came to the house was a day I will never forget. (angelinhell: Yes, I know that is so clichéd.) I answered the knocking on the door to greet his grim visage.  
  
"I must speak to your mistress," he stated calmly.  
  
I ushered him into the living room, gracious but confused. As soon as I saw him safely sitting in that spacious apartment I went to get Madame Reinchart.  
  
"Madame," I called through her closed door, "Father Depruis is here and he wants to speak to you."  
  
"About what?" she snarled loudly through the door.  
  
"I don't know, Madame."  
  
She pulled open the door and tore past me down the stairs, her vermillion skirts flapping behind her. I heard her hiss "Incompetent servants!" before she put on her customary guest-receiving smile.  
  
"I'm sorry, Father," she said sweetly as she traveled down the staircase, "but I was... busy." She glared at me.  
  
"It's quite alright, Charlotte," he replied, far too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice. "I'm concerned about your children. You see-"  
  
"Has Erik done anything? If he has, I swear-"  
  
"No, no, Charlotte, Erik has never been anything but kind to me. It's-"  
  
"Gabrielle, then? That little-"  
  
"No, Charlotte, no, you're taking this all wrong. I'm not here to punish your children. I simply want to... talk to them."  
  
The hint of malice in that sentence was something Charlotte could understand. She smiled acidly and the priest and shouted up the stairs:  
  
"Erik! Gabrielle! Father Depruis wants to-"  
  
"Talk to us, I know," came Gabrielle's clear voice. "I'm not a telepath for nothing, you know."  
  
The two children came down together, Gabrielle's long, slender, bare fingers resting gently on her brother's arm. It was an astonishing sight, even to those who have seen it before.  
  
Erik seemed clothed in mystery, in darkness. The mask I had made for him made him seem all the more like Gabrielle's shadow.  
  
Gabrielle was similarly clothed, in a tight-fitting gown that showed off the small curves of her boyish figure. Her black hair hung down to her waist, and her pale skin contrasted sharply with her attire.  
  
It was easy to forget that the twins were only six years old.  
  
The good father was struck absolutely dumb by the sight of these children, acting- and being in all but age and experience- as though they were adults! It had frightened me as well, at first. But I knew both of them savored the look of pure astonishment on the poor priest's face. In fact, I could hear Gabrielle's telepathic laughter ringing inside my head, oppressive and far from silent.  
  
But he recovered quickly and looked down at the three-foot-tall forms of the children.  
  
"So, Gabrielle."  
  
"Yes, Father?" She sounded so innocent, but I could hear the malicious vibe she was broadcasting.  
  
"What do you believe in?"  
  
"'I believe in God, the Father, the Almighty, Creator of-'"  
  
"No, no, child," the priest said kindly, not knowing that memorization took Gabrielle no more effort than breathing. "I mean what do you believe?"  
  
Gabrielle was getting visibly impatient with this. "I believe many things. What do you mean? Specify!"  
  
"I mean, what do you believe about people?"  
  
"I do not believe about people," Gabrielle said offhandedly. "I know."  
  
Depruis was taken aback. "You know? That seems rather arrogant, my child. What do you know?"  
  
"I know there is something everyone wants. It could be power; it could be blood; it could be something as innocent as to make everyone around them happy. I know there is something everyone fears; it could be anything from death to heights. I know that I have power over many of them; I know what they think of me and what they want of me." Her voice was bitter and cold. "I know that you, Father, are afraid of me and yet would like nothing better than to get me into bed. So don't talk to me about belief. I know."  
  
Father Depruis sputtered, "How dare you-"  
  
"How dare I what, Father?" she taunted him. "How dare I tell the truth?"  
  
Charlotte was infuriated. "Hold her," she said to me, moving closer to the children.  
  
Gabrielle stood still as I approached. "I will not move before your paltry blows, Mother," she said quietly.  
  
Charlotte, infuriated, turned around and struck the unsuspecting Erik sharply in the chest. He gave a little half-cry and fell, unconscious, to the carpet.  
  
Gabrielle shrieked with rage and jumped for her mother, her mismatched eyes glowing with fury. She landed on the woman and scratched at her face. Charlotte retaliated not with an attack on Gabrielle herself, but by kicking her prostrate brother. This, however, was a mistake. The woman nearly lost and eye before Father Depruis managed to pull Gabrielle away.  
  
He flung her to the ground where she lay, breathing hard, her tight skirt preventing her from rising. Charlotte, a malicious grin on lighting up her heavily bleeding face, began to her son harder than before. Gabrielle screamed wordlessly from where she lay, her scream quickly going from loud to telepathically deafening.  
  
But I, who had gotten used to this mind scream, could hear what Gabrielle was muttering beneath it:  
  
*Break. Break. Break. BREAK!* and I could the cord that held the chandelier fraying.  
  
But with Gabrielle's screams ringing in his ears, Father Depruis did not notice where he was standing until it was too late.  
  
With a crash, the huge chandelier fell to the carpet, its many sharp glass pieces cutting through his skin and killing him within seconds.  
  
Charlotte abruptly ceased her movement and commenced to faint. Gabrielle's scream turned into loud weeping, and my shock prevented me from moving.  
  
Gabrielle ripped open her open her skirt and ran over to her brother, lying senseless near Charlotte's body. She knelt by his side and called out, "Erik, please, say something, do something, don't leave me... Please, Erik, you have to be alive..."  
  
His eyes flutter open. "One beating will not kill me, my dear sister. I'm not going to die. I'm not even going to be incapacitated."  
  
"Oh, Erik, thank God!" Gabrielle cried before throwing herself, sobbing onto him. "I killed him, Erik, I didn't mean to, I meant to make Mother stop hurting you, and it worked, only I didn't want to kill him, but I did, and in a way I'm glad, I hated the lecherous bastard, but I killed him, Erik, I killed him, I did..."  
  
And he held her with one arm, the other hanging painfully at his side. "Sh, Gabrielle, it's all right, I know you didn't mean to kill him, I know."  
  
I didn't have the heart to break their embrace, come between them.  
  
"Oh, God, I love you, Erik," she choked.  
  
And he held her, his unspoken message of reciprocation radiating throughout the room.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
angelinhell: I'm not even going to ask you if you like it, he's just going to make some crack about it.  
  
Erik: I'm insulted that you think I'm that heartless.  
  
angelinhell: Well, aren't you?  
  
Erik: *smirks* Of course. But I'm insulted that you think so.  
  
angelinhell: Oy.  
  
*Doorbell rings.*  
  
angelinhell: Oh, that must be the shipment of sets I ordered! *runs off stage*  
  
*Door opens.*  
  
angelinhell: Sets R Us? What? No, I didn't order two large anchovy pizzas. No, I'm not going to pay for them-  
  
*The rest, after a cheesy squelch, is silence.*  
  
angelinhell: *reappears covered in cheese and tomato sauce* All right, own up. Who ordered these? *points to own head*  
  
evilemmylou: *popping up timidly from behind mixer* I did?  
  
angelinhell: *growls and proceeds to chase evilemmylou around the room*  
  
Erik: This is mildly amusing, don't you agree?  
  
Gabrielle: It's just annoying.  
  
Erik: *gets hit with large glob of flying tomato sauce and cheese* You're right, it's just annoying.  
  
angelinhell: I'm going to kill you!!!!!!!!!  
  
evilemmylou: *shrieks and runs into Nick, who has randomly appeared* Ow. *looks back and sees angelinhell in hot pursuit* EEP! *runs away*  
  
Nick: *seeing angelinhell running past covered in pizza glop* Ha ha! Pizza the Hut!  
  
angelinhell: *looks at Nick strangely and flings glob of pizza goop at him*  
  
Nick: FOOD FIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *grabs packages of coconut doughnuts that have randomly appeared and begins to fling them around the room*  
  
Gabrielle: *grabs Erik's arm and looks at camera* We're leaving, and I advise you to do the same.  
  
angelinhell: Don't go away! Coming up next, the third chapter! Any ideas as to the perspective of the story are welco- *gets hit in the mouth with doughnut*  
  
evilemmylou: See you next time! *looks around room* You know, Em, you've really got to clean this place up.  
  
angelinhell: *pulls doughnut out of mouth and throws it at evilemmylou, along with some pizza glop*  
  
evilemmylou: *dodges pizza-covered doughnut*  
  
*doughnuts burst into flame*  
  
Nick: FIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
angelinhell: *rubs forehead* Shit. Go away, I've got to clean this up.  
  
Nick: FIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
evilemmylou: You heard the woman. The show is over! Shoo! 


	3. Shadow

Chapter Three by angelinhell  
  
angelinhell: And now, the third chapter in my epic story of doom!  
  
evilemmylou: *glares at angelinhell*  
  
angelinhell: *cringes* Anyway, we(re having fun here in this studio with fun and insanity.  
  
evilemmylou: *looks over strangely at angelinhell* You said fun twice.  
  
Angelinhell: *scratches head* I did? *looks back at script* You(re right, I did. But we(re still having fun with fun and insanity!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
evilemmylou: *sighs*  
  
angelinhell: According to my schedule, we are receiving two sets, a number of all purpose props, several scripts courtesy of evilemmylou(s writing studio and it(s two-dimensional, insubstantial workforce-  
  
evilemmylou: Go anime labor!  
  
angelinhell: *stares at evilemmylou*  
  
evilemmylou: What?!  
  
angelinhell: -and a live jaguar!  
  
ririchan: *popping out of nowhere* Wait a sec. Did you say a live jaguar?  
  
angelinhell: Of course! It(s in the script, isn(t it?  
  
ririchan: *checks script* I guess. But the point is that I(m allergic to cats.  
  
*Loud roar is heard from the hallway.*  
  
angelinhell: Unfortunately, my friend Riri, you will just have to deal. *goes to door* *to movers* Just put the cage over there. Opposite the mixer.  
  
Mover: It ain't in a cage, lady, just on a lea-  
  
*ROAR*  
  
*SNAP*  
  
ririchan: *starts to sneeze uncontrollably*  
  
Jaguar: *runs into room, teeth bared* RRRRRRRAAAAAAOOOOORRRRRRR!!!!!!!!  
  
evilemmylou: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *runs away*  
  
angelinhell: *does the same*  
  
ririchan: *follows angelinhell and evilemmylou, still sneezing violently*  
  
Gabrielle: *walks into film studio with Erik* Hello? What's going -  
  
Jaguar: RRRRRRRAAAAAAOOOOORRRRRRR!!!!!!!!  
  
Gabrielle: *drags Erik out of studio* We'll come back later. At a better time.  
  
angelinhell: NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! Wait! COOOOMMMEEEE BAAAACCCKKK!!!!!!!!  
  
laaanessness: *comes in with huge bloody steak in left hand* Hey, guys, what's up?  
  
evilemmylou: Julie, I think you better look-  
  
laaanessness: *sees jaguar* Oh, nice kitty. Nice Shadow. *holds out steak* I've got a present for you!  
  
Jaguar: *purrs and walks over to laaanessness* *begins to eat steak*  
  
*all stare at laaanessness strangely*  
  
laaanessness: *petting jaguar* What?!  
  
angelinhell: *shrugs*  
  
laaanessness: Well, what are you waiting for?  
  
angelinhell: *shrugs* *again*  
  
laaanessness: Then on with the story!  
  
evilemmylou: Right!  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Glowing green eyes cut the night's deepest shadow as the huge animal they belonged to lashed her tail rapidly. The tree shook with the weight of the black jaguar it held within its branches, gently rustling against the window in the third floor wall and making clicking noises on the strong wooden trellis that led to the window.  
  
It was a big garden, with plenty of places for even a cat of this size to hide. The rose bushes alone were large enough to hide five of her, though it would be somewhat painful. There were lilacs and lavender in one corner and a small plot of marigolds near the stone bench on the left side. All of the flowers had been allowed to run wild, and only the small section of purple irises in the back by the gate was not full of weeds.  
  
While once this place had been beautiful, it was now merely tragic. The cat put her head on her paws and for a few seconds used human words to formulate the thought goes to show what humans do to perfectly good land it goes to ruin and neglect before lapsing into the far easier practice of thinking in images, feelings, and memories.  
  
She had come from a long way away, too far for most humans, but the big cat was made of sterner stuff, and she had made it this far. Her telepathic instinct told her that this one, this Master, would be kinder to her than the others she had met along the way. The journey had taken her three long months, and about half of that had been spent on living with and escaping from unkind Masters. The rest had been spent on running, running as far and as fast as the poor animal could go.  
  
The black jaguar tilted her head and focused on the door as it slowly opened. One woman stumbled out, tall and beautiful, but haughty and seemingly unforgiving. The cat found herself thanking Bastet that this woman was not accompanied by the soft glow that heralded a Master. She was dragging two young boys, one wearing a mask, the other with incredibly long hair and both with astonishing, mismatched black-and-white eyes.  
  
White light poured from the two children, illuminating their features and showing their determination and righteous anger. So it was to be two Masters this time. Perhaps she had better watch and see what they did, because two Masters were always harder to escape from than one.  
  
The woman began to shout at the two children, green eyes fiery and blazing with rage. The masked boy started to shout back at her, the long-haired one simply staring calmly and infuriatingly at the woman. Suddenly the woman turned violently and swung a fist at the masked boy.  
  
Almost instantly the long-haired one leapt into action. He jumped in front of the woman's blow and took it harshly in the chest, falling backward several feet. The masked boy ran to his brother's side and began to shout back at the woman.  
  
The jaguar was almost singed by the anger emanating from the boy, and she could feel, beneath it, the call for help that was broadcasted. Squirrels in the tree chattered angrily at the woman, encouraging the cat to fight in the children's defense, and when asked they provided the information that the children were kind but the woman was evil, as a predator was evil. That decided her.  
  
As the woman advanced on the boy and prepared to swing against him once more, the huge cat launched herself from the tree, hitting the woman and enjoying the feeling of having her claws dig into this contemptible skin. She bared her teeth, and the woman screamed and tried to shake the cat off. She hung on doggedly, sinking her teeth into skin to retain her hold.  
  
The woman screamed again and stopped moving. The cat jumped off her and prowled in circles between the woman and the children, watching satisfactorily as blood dripped from the many wounds she had made. The woman slowly began to back up, fear showing in her eyes. The big cat growled low in her throat.  
  
The woman turned and ran for the door, opened it, and locked it behind her.  
  
The cat laughed, a deep throaty cat-laugh, then turned to face the children.  
  
The first thing she noticed was that the long-haired boy was, in fact, a girl. This embarrassed her somewhat, but she overcame that quickly and looked the masked boy straight in the eye.  
  
He stared back at her, eyes glowing with confusion, excitement, some satisfaction, and just a little fear.  
  
The girl coughed, and he turned back to her, eyes full of concern. She spoke gently, then looked over at the cat. She spoke again, voice questioning. The boy answered her.  
  
Then the girl used words the cat could understand, a thought that could resound in her brain. Why? She presented the two children with an image of themselves as they looked to her. The girl drew in her breath sharply as the cat thought the word Masters.  
  
No, we're not, the girl thought. We're just telepathic, we can't control you.  
  
You... understand. You... speak. So I... listen... you. This thinking in words was very hard for her. Master.  
  
Mistress, the girl corrected her. And my name is Gabrielle.  
  
No, Master and Master, the cat continued, struggling for the words. Master is... title. None of you... under... the other. You... equal. Mistress... lower. Master... equal. Both... Master.  
  
Just call me Gabrielle.  
  
No, Master.  
  
The girl mentally sighed. Erik, a little help here?  
  
Where did you come from? And don't worry, the boy thought, his melodious thought-voice kind. We understand images. We learned from the others. Several images, of other creatures, pervaded the cat's mind.  
  
The cat sigh gratefully and sent images of her first Master and then of all the others, ending with an image of herself running.  
  
You poor thing, Gabrielle thought softly. She spoke to Erik rapidly. He nodded.  
  
You can stay with us. Gabrielle smiled at the cat. What's your name?  
  
The cat was slightly confused, but then understood. They would have to call her something, after all. She gave her image-name.  
  
All right, then, Erik thought. We'll call you Shadow.  
  
The cat laughed again, then helped the two children to climb up the trellis. She herself clawed her way up the tree, following them. Erik, who had gotten there first, opened the window and tumbled in. Gabrielle followed him, and waved the cat in.  
  
No, Master, the cat thought. I... like... outside... tree.  
  
Suit yourself, the girl thought, and left the window open.  
  
The cat slept happy that night.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
angelinhell: I'm going to dispense with this ending disclaimer, as it will only end in severe property damage and me becoming infuriated.  
  
evilemmylou: Too late. This is it.  
  
angelinhell: ARRRRRRRRGG- *claps hands over mouth as she realizes she is continuing the disclaimer*  
  
laaanessness: A little late for that, Em. It's already started, and there's nothing you can do about it.  
  
Nick: *pops up* I smelled steak.  
  
laaanessness: *points to half-eaten steak* It's sort of taken.  
  
Jaguar: *as if to prove the point* RRRRROOOOOOOAAAAAAARRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Nick: Okay, okay! *backs off*  
  
ririchan: I'm leaving. *begins to do so*  
  
evilemmylou: Not yet! You can't leave until the disclaimer is over.  
  
ririchan: *whining* Why not?  
  
evilemmylou: So you can take part in the insanity!  
  
angelinhell: *groans* Can all of you just get out of here before something bad happens?  
  
Nick: *wanders over to lighting controls*  
  
angelinhell: *sees him* No! Nick! Don't-  
  
Nick: *pushes button labeled 'Lights'*  
  
Lights: *go out*  
  
angelinhell: Shit.  
  
Sets: *begin to randomly fall over*  
  
angelinhell: NICK! STOP MOVING!  
  
Sets: *stop falling over*  
  
angelinhell: Now, listen to me very carefully. You are going to walk between the sets towards the sound of my voice. All right?  
  
Penny: *pops up and lights match* What's up?  
  
Nick: FIRE!!!!!!!! *runs for fire* *through several sets*  
  
angelinhell: Shit.  
  
Penny: *walks into barrels of gunpowder*  
  
*BOOM*  
  
angelinhell: *gently smoking* There wasn't supposed to be actual gunpowder in those barrels.  
  
evilemmylou: I thought you wanted something authentic.  
  
angelinhell: *sighs*  
  
Penny: *sets self on fire*  
  
Nick: FIRE!!!!!! *runs over to Penny and starts to dance around with her*  
  
Penny: FIRE!!!!!!!!!!! *while dancing with Nick, sets him on fire*  
  
angelinhell: SHIT! GO AWAY!  
  
Nick and Penny: *stop dancing* *continue burning*  
  
angelinhell: *sighs* This disclaimer is over.  
  
evilemmylou: No it is-  
  
angelinhell: *smothers evilemmylou* It is now. 


	4. The Mirror

Chapter Four by angelinhell  
  
angelinhell: Haha, and this is the chapter you've all been waiting for- it's from GABRIELLE'S POINT OF VIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Gabrielle: Oh, stop already with the self-glorifying remarks.  
  
angelinhell: They're not self-glorifying unless I wrote you- *realizes* Which means you JUST ADMITTED TO BEING WRITTEN BY ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Gabrielle: So?  
  
angelinhell: You admitted it. I recorded it. *holds up tape recorder triumphantly* Therefore, legally I own you!  
  
Gabrielle: You little- *starts to chase angelinhell around the room*  
  
Jaguar: *no longer occupied with piece of meat* GRRR.  
  
Gabrielle: *stops chasing angelinhell and thinks* *stares at jaguar*  
  
Jaguar: *nods and starts chasing angelinhell around the room*  
  
angelinhell: Hey, no bringing telepathically controlled teeth and claws into it!  
  
Gabrielle: Would you rather I brought Penny into it? (For those of you who don't know, Penny is PennythePyro, my alter ego [or just me with a different e-mail address] and counter-conscience.)  
  
angelinhell: *shudders and looks at approaching teeth and claws* I think I'll stick with non-flaming weapons.  
  
evilemmylou: *bursts into film studio with triumphant grin on her face* Well, I DID IT!  
  
angelinhell: Great, we congratulate you on whatever it is you've done, now can you please relieve this angry jaguar of its pastime of CHASING ME AROUND THE ROOM???????????!!!!!!!  
  
evilemmylou: Certainly. *traps jaguar with spare set*  
  
angelinhell: Whew!  
  
Gabrielle: Great, now I have to chase her on my own! *glares at evilemmylou before leaping onto angelinhell's heels*  
  
evilemmylou: *plaintively* Doesn't ANYONE want to know what I did?  
  
Erik: I would. It would relieve the monotony of my sister chasing my favorite professional liar around the room. *sighs* Shoot.  
  
evilemmylou: I rented park space which means we can do our exterior filming today!  
  
angelinhell: *while being chased* Em, I haven't- frickin- WRITTEN- our outdoor- scenes yet! We're- still restricted- to- interior shots- because of this- god-damn- WOMAN- who happens to be- CHASING ME AROUND THE ROOM!!!!!!!!  
  
Erik: Gabrielle, quit it. You're going to kill yourself.  
  
Gabrielle: *glares at Erik but slows to a walk*  
  
angelinhell: *to evilemmylou* How long do you think I'll have to avoid her after this?  
  
Gabrielle: *annoyed* I heard that!  
  
angelinhell: You really think I care?  
  
Gabrielle: Well, I nev- *is cut off by secret door in wall swinging open and slamming her into the wall*  
  
Nick: *emerges from secret door* Cool!  
  
evilemmylou: I see you've discovered the passageway from MY writing studio *glares at Nick* to Em's film studio.  
  
Nick: Yep! And I brought Penny with me!  
  
Penny: *half emerging from the passage* Hi-  
  
angelinhell: No! No! NOT YOU! *shoves door back onto Penny*  
  
*strangled cry from behind door*  
  
Nick: Hey!  
  
Penny: *from behind door* MMF! (HEY!)  
  
angelinhell: Anyway, on with the show! *holds up tape recorder* Haha! Just wait until this gets to court!  
  
Gabrielle: ARGH! *resumes chasing angelinhell around the room*  
  
evilemmylou: Oh, and by the way, angelinhell has not bought out POTO, as far as I know-  
  
angelinhell: Just wait!  
  
evilemmylou: -so she STILL doesn't own it.  
  
angelinhell: Any day now... I'll have the necessary pictures to blackmail the owner into selling the rights to me...  
  
Erik: Quite frankly, my friend, the owner is dead.  
  
angelinhell: *stops running* Really?  
  
Gabrielle: *runs past angelinhell and crashes into sets* shitshitshitShitSHIT!  
  
angelinhell: Even if the rights aren't mine, enjoy! *aside* But one day I'll own them all... MWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
evilemmylou: Maniacal laughter is not in the script, Em.  
  
angelinhell: Who gives? On with the story!  
  
* * * * * *  
  
That day had two significances- it was the twelfth anniversary of my and my brother's birth, and it was the day we ran away.  
  
Our mother was at her worst. We knew because she actually looked happy, and Charlotte Reinchart never looked happy unless she was just about ready to drop a bombshell on us.  
  
For a while, she had been angry because of the appearance of Shadow, mainly because the big cat tended to protect us from her physical attacks, and so now she had to resort to mental ones.  
  
But that day she went too far.  
  
It seemed so simple at the time. A little time, organized by Marie- Paulette, was set aside that day basically to congratulate us on being born, something we could not have avoided even had we wanted to. It was a pointless effort, but we both knew Marie-Paulette had worked hard for it, and so we didn't say so.  
  
Things looked suspicious, however, when Charlotte appeared, a gift for my brother wrapped in her hand and ready to open. It worried me.  
  
If only I had known how this would end up, I would have left right then and saved Erik the pain. As it was, I only watched with apprehension as he took it and unwrapped it.  
  
It was a mirror. The irony was enough to make me scream, but I did nothing.  
  
For which I will never forgive myself.  
  
With typical naïveté he looked down. He asked a single question.  
  
"What is that?"  
  
And Charlotte smiled spitefully and answered, "You."  
  
Marie-Paulette gasped and Erik dropped the mirror. It shattered with a crash like a gunshot. He bent down and picked up one of the pieces, the glass cutting his hand, and stared at it.  
  
"How does it work?" he asked, gripping the shard with trembling fingers.  
  
And Charlotte, willing to do anything (even lie) to hurt him, told him, "It shows us the color of our soul. It shows us who we really are." With mock concern she leaned forward. "Does it not show you what you wish to see?"  
  
I grabbed Erik's hand. "We're leaving now," I said quietly, dragging him to his feet. "Shadow!"  
  
The jaguar pounded up to me and stood between us and Charlotte. But she had no intention of stopping us from leaving.  
  
"It's not going to work, girl," the mother I hated said. "No matter how far you run, you will never be able to hide him from what he is- demon's child!"  
  
Erik groaned.  
  
"And you will always remind him of what he is, for you are demon's child also! You think that leaving will hurt me? Leave! I loathe you with all my heart! Never come back, demons! Never!"  
  
"Come on!" I hissed at my brother. "We have to get out of here."  
  
And with one last parting glance towards Marie, he turned and ran with me through the garden and out into the world we had never known.  
  
Now we would know it. We had no choice.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
It took us a while, but we built ourselves a tree house, made of large fallen branches and reed-rope. Through the entire week it took us, Erik never spoke a word. We ate what we could find, we built where we could, we made what we needed- but in total silence, It was like he had sealed himself up inside himself and no one, not even me, was ever going to get to him.  
  
Then, a few days after we had finished, Erik asked me the question I will never forget.  
  
"What am I?"  
  
I didn't know what to say.  
  
"What am I? Where did I come from? Why am I not like you?"  
  
I took his hand. "I don't know why you're not like me, Erik, but you are human. You are my brother and I love you and nothing in this world is ever going to change that.  
  
The next question surprised me more.  
  
"Why does Mother hate me?"  
  
And when I gave the answer, it was more true than I could have expected.  
  
"Because she doesn't understand you."  
  
I held him then, and his eyes expressed his gratitude.  
  
But I didn't know how I was ever going to make it right.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
evilemmylou: Oh, Em, that's so sad! And evil... how could you let this happen?  
  
angelinhell: Don't blame me, I'm just writing the story. I'm not controlling it.  
  
Erik: Right.  
  
angelinhell: Okay, so I am controlling it. But there are some constants! I have to explain... stuff."  
  
Gabrielle: Can we please start the stupid filming and get this over with?  
  
angelinhell: Oh, you're not in this. We got ten-year-old Amy Quinn to play the young you.  
  
Gabrielle: So how are you going to work the eyes?  
  
angelinhell: One word, lady- contacts.  
  
Erik: Who's playing me?  
  
angelinhell: *turns to evilemmylou* Em, who did you get to play Erik?  
  
evilemmylou: *blushes* Well- I know you said not to let personal preference to influence my choice... but...  
  
angelinhell: Oh, no... You didn't...  
  
Schwartz: *walks in* Hey, guys! When do we start filming?  
  
angelinhell and Erik: *faint*  
  
ririchan: *while dragging the lifeless bodies out of the film studio* See you next time!  
  
evilemmylou: Aren't you supposed to make some crack about the unconscious state of our two friends?  
  
ririchan: *shrugs* That's how she usually signs off.  
  
evilemmylou: *sighs* Pathetic but unchangeable. Bye!  
  
(For those of you who are a little confused, Schwartz is a boy the friend represented by evilemmylou used to have a crush on, and he is extremely annoying and energetic, as will become clear in future disclaimers. Angelinhell out!) 


End file.
